Protector
by AGENT Kuma-chan
Summary: Riza/Roy. When Riza Hawkeye first saw Roy Mustang, she was young and foolish. She thinks she still is, especially when now when it's nearly done.


**Pairing:** Riza/Roy

**Prompt:** "You promised!"

**A/N:** I can't remember what Riza's codename (what Roy uses when he calls girls and goes on 'dates' etc.) is when Roy calls her, so I made it 'Eliza'.

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_Protector_

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She was young and foolish when she agreed to show Roy Mustang the secrets on her back. That is how Riza explains it now, years later, when she thinks back to that day. There is no other reason that she would want to show those dangerous secrets, things that could cause death by the hundreds, to anyone.

Even to someone like Roy.

She hears a clang and sits still. This is no time to reminisce, when she has to protect his back once again.

"So, that's what you're doing," a voice says, masculine and deep. Riza doesn't quite recognize the voice but she pinpoints the location. It's to her right and below, around fifteen yards away.

"Took you that long to figure out?" an arrogant voice replies and she recognizes that one as Roy's.

_Show time, _she thinks as she gets her rifle into position. In the secure tower, she places the weapon on the brick windowsill and lies on the floor behind it. Peering through the scope, she sees the two men facing each other.

It's a dramatic scene, not one fit for a battle, but Roy's always liked the theatre. That is why he makes a few showy actions, like waving his arms around to start his alchemy. She watches the battle for a few minutes, waiting for her opening. There's useless talk and then she sees it.

BANG!

As always, her shot hits the mark—the target's heart. Another one hits his head. It's one of the quickest ways to kill someone and to be sure of it. She relaxes her finger for a minute before she notices three more target's surrounding him.

Something inside her jumps, heavy and hard and completely irrational. There is no need for panic; he can protect himself easily. She knows that but still starts shooting them down.

When it comes to Roy, Riza's still young and foolish.

-x-

"What are you doing?"

"Sir, I'm polishing my guns. They need to be in top condition for our battle."

"Right, our battle…think I could sneak away from it for a while, and—"

"No. Go back to your post, sir. It'll be starting soon."

"Oh, come on, just for a few minutes. We still have at least seven hours before they arrive."

"We don't know that for sure. They could arrive at any moment and we are the last defense."

"I'll be safe and—ow! Why did you do that?"

"Don't touch my guns, sir."

"…"

"…"

"I guess you won't let me go then."

"No."

"…I wonder how long this battle will be and how severe."

"Judging by what we know, sir, I think there will be a lot of casualties."

"Dead or wounded?"

"You know as well as I do there will be both."

"I'll go get a drink then. I think there'll be a party soon—the dead leaving with a good sendoff."

"You close to them, sir?"

"No, I just met them yesterday. You?"

"Not yet."

"…"

"…"

"…."

"You can go tomorrow, sir."

(There will be a tomorrow.)

-x-

Roy loves a good battle. There is a thrill that comes with putting his life on the line and it's addictive. A shiver runs up his spine when there's a fifty-fifty chance of life and death, the same as a coin toss, and sometimes he wonders how long he'll keep landing on heads.

He doesn't dwell on that thought. It doesn't help him with accomplishing his goal (and _hers_). All it does is remind him of his mortality, of Hughes's mortality, and open doors he doesn't want to open yet.

Instead, Roy faces his battles with a smirk on his face and a sharp retort on his tongue. It keeps the enemy guessing.

"So that's what you're doing," his latest challenger says with a little awe and surprise. It took him a while to realize that he was being lead to Roy's latest stage, a platform under the blue sky.

"Took you that long to figure it out?" Roy gives an arrogant smirk, irritating the other man.

"I'm going to break your face, pretty boy." There is anger, at both Roy and the slight humiliation he received.

"Sorry, I don't swing that way." It's hard to hide the excitement he feels as he snaps his fingers, making a small flame. His opponent stares at the flame in surprise for a moment before getting out his sword.

"Let's see if I can cut off that hand of yours first."

Death's standing nearby and Roy wonders if this time she's out to get him. Then he sees the faintest silver glint from the edge of his vision and knows better.

There is a bang and his opponent falls to his knees, before collapsing onto the floor.

"She really didn't need to do that," he mutters to himself when he hears three more shots. He doesn't have to turn around to see the bodies sprawled on the ground.

Roy loves to make reckless actions in battle, whether it is taunting the enemy or taking unnecessary risks.

He does it because Riza will always be there, fixing any mess he might make.

-x-

"I have a hot date!"

"…"

"It's with the beautiful, mysterious, Eliza!"

"…"

"Tonight, in a candle-lit restaurant, the best food possible…"

"…"

"She'll flirt with me, I'll flirt back."

"…"

"…I'll be a polite gentleman."

"…"

"Dinner will be amazing. I'll pay for it."

"…"

"We'll be doing all sorts of things after dinner."

"…"

"In her apartment."

"…"

"…"

"Sir, if you're done, can you please finish your paperwork?"

-x-

When Riza first met Roy, she didn't think much of him. He was around her age, with only a little experience in the real world, and was a bit too impatient. Patience was something her father taught her to have and it was something she looked for in others.

Roy didn't seem to have any.

Still, her father trusted him and that rubbed off onto her.

When she looks at Roy now, she still sees the little boy she first met, all fire and speed. There is a difference, though. Before he was just smoke, not real, not giving anything of substance.

This Roy keeps his promises and is solid.

-x-

"You're pretty good with that gun, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, sir."

"Really, I was surrounded back there."

"So were the others. I did what I had to."

"Right…they weren't that lucky, though."

"There were a lot of targets. Unfortunately, I couldn't shoot them all at once, sir."

"I know. I couldn't save them either…"

"No one could, sir. At least those that could be saved were saved."

"…right…"

"…"

"…"

"I think I'll head back then. We're expecting another surge soon."

"I'll go too. I might be needed."

"You'll be useless out there with that wound, sir."

"Wh...."

"You can come after you've been bandaged, sir. This battle will take a while."

"…I'll be there."

"I expect it."

-x-

Roy doesn't delude himself by thinking he's a hero. He isn't trying to do anything heroic, really, just his own selfish wants. Maybe he's also trying to complete her desires as well (_You promised! Don't forget that, if nothing else_) but it is more or less his wants.

(He wants her respect, her eye, her smile.)

Even if his goal does help the country in the long run, he can't be considered a savior. He's read those stories before, when he was a child, and the protagonist is always trying to save his companions. Save them from guilt, save them from death, save them from misery; the hero always tries to take them on himself.

Roy doesn't do that. When blood mars Riza's skin, when Fuery's innocence slowly fades, he lets it happen. No one can remain untainted in war, that's how it goes. And this is a war, a war with him on one side and his goal on the other. A chess board where everyone is a pawn, including himself. He knows there are others who will benefit from his success, others who will try to grab it from his hands.

That's why when the Riza's gloves can't be washed any more, he buys her new one's and when Havoc is lost, he fills his mind with images of mini-skirts for uniforms. They are his pawns and he won't let them break.

He can't let them break.

-x-

"Sir, you're running late again."

"What do you mean, running late? I'm on time."

"You were supposed to be here two hours ago."

"….I'm sure they'll wait for me."

"They're walking down the steps as we speak. Sir, get out and talk to them now."

"The brat. Doesn't he have respect for me in the slightest? He's supposed to wait for me."

"They could have other appointments."

"They were supposed to wait either way. I could be doing something important."

"You were drinking coffee in the shop across from them."

"I was giving my subordinate a debriefing on important matters. Wasn't it nice to be out of the office for a while, me giving you a treat?"

"I am paying for you."

"…."

"Sir, you're stalling now. Go."

"You really like ruining my fun, you know."

"Of course, sir."

-x-

She doesn't feel guilty for the deaths she caused. That's what Riza tells herself when she has killed yet another foe. There is nothing to feel guilty about because that death saved her comrades lives.

It's hard to use that to explain the deaths in the Ishbal war. A mere child couldn't cause any damage was her first thought when she originally started. However, that was forgetting what desperation could do to a person.

_A wounded, cornered animal is the most dangerous,_ her instructor told her. Riza had never known the truth in those words until the war.

Either way, no matter whom she killed or why, Riza can't allow herself to feel guilty. It's a waste of time to wonder if she could have spared their lives or if they had any reason to be killed in the first place.

Besides, she's doing this to make Roy keep his promise, to keep him safe. If that's not a good reason, then what is?

(There are still times when it is hard to bear and she appreciates his gentle but firm pressure on her shoulder.)

-x-

"When are you leaving again?"

"In two weeks, sir. The others are leaving around then as well."

"He's watching you, right?"

"All of us are under surveillance."

"Then I guess I can't visit you and the others are going too far as is."

"Correct, sir."

"I see. I guess this means he's catching onto my plans."

"I suppose so, sir."

"…"

"…"

"This only means I'll have to work a little harder."

"…"

"And I'll need to make a different plan."

"You'll need new pawns, sir."

"I think the ones I have already are good enough. They'll keep helping wherever they are. After all, they are going to be able to keep an eye on many people now."

"Of course, sir."

-x-

There is no such thing as love within the army. There's no time for it—it gets in the way, clouds judgment, causes mistakes—and that's why it doesn't exist. Love is a double-edged sword, capable of giving you joy and stabbing you at the same time.

That is why Riza doesn't love Roy and he doesn't love her. It doesn't exist in the first place, so it can't happen.

"Don't you have a date, sir?" Riza asks when he returns to the office at three, a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a frown on his face.

"She can't make it," Roy answers and she wonders if he's worried if his date is still alive.

The office is empty except for them, nearly everyone getting ready to move to their new destinations. He takes a look and realizes this is what he'll be seeing for a while, until he himself is moved. Before entering the room, he pauses and glances at her. Stares for a moment, takes a longer look at the room, looks at the roses in his hand, watches her a little longer.

She isn't sure of what to expect when he finally talks.

"Want some coffee?" he finally asks and hands her the roses. "Why waste a perfectly good day?"

Riza stares at the roses for a moment. She doesn't have a vase for the roses, not needing one, and will probably end up throwing them when she gets home.

There is no such thing as love in the army. Instead, there are roses and coffee, quiet moments where a gun and a warm hand are your only companions, small jokes that keep silence and fear at bay. It's a delicate balance that keeps you sane and alert without giving you too much and making you long for more.

It's because of that wish that she sniffs the flowers and tells him, "They're nice."

She might not be able to keep them (these flowers, this moment, _him_) but she can at least enjoy them for the present.

"Shall we go, sir?"


End file.
